


a containment of multitudes

by meowcosm



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Costume Kink, Intercrural Sex, Knight kink, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Coital Cuddling, Priest Kink, Sexual Roleplay, Tall Bottom/Short Top, maid dresses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:28:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24559180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meowcosm/pseuds/meowcosm
Summary: A long, committed relationship offers ways to spice things up in the bedroom. Between an artist and a consummate statesman, there are plenty of ideas to be had.
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Ignatz Victor
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	a containment of multitudes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aurnion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurnion/gifts).



> for sparrow! your art is great and you've really got me to like lorenatz. i hope you enjoy!

Neither Lorenz or Ignatz are, necessarily, men of the faith. There are appearances to be kept up, of course, which Lorenz had emphasized in Ignatz’s introduction to the politest of company. Appearances which Ignatz hardly struggled to fulfill- his study of the scripture was respectable, and his artistic reverence stronger. But these appearances are what they are- appearances. Neither possesses a significant command of faithful magic, nor would either be suitable to serve in the church. 

Sometimes, though, it doesn’t hurt to pretend. In private, of course, out of the prying eyes of the public which looks upon them at galas and public processions. It had come to Ignatz naturally the first time Lorenz suggested he play at authority during their coupling. Lorenz had admitted later that night that he’d had something more aligned with a reversal of their social roles in mind initially- but that he had not minded Ignatz’s interpretation. Not when it brought him down onto his knees, willing and faithful. 

Nor would he mind trying it again. 

“Good. Very good.” 

Lorenz kneels on the floor, pressed against the hard wood of the bedroom flooring. His head is stooped, even with the growing swell in Ignatz’s twilight-blue robes. As his hands tug on the bottom hem of the flowing garment, it crosses Lorenz’s mind that he should  _ perhaps _ ask where he obtained such a markedly authentic garment of the Church. It reminds him very much of Seteth- and he supposes that it must be a testament to Ignatz’s confidence in the role that such a thought is not sufficient to turn him off of the scenario entirely. 

All thoughts, however, depart from Lorenz’s mind when Ignatz entangles his nimble fingers between the strands of his hair. He traces his fingers down to the bottom of the locks, and Lorenz shudders at the pleasure of it. He hopes, too, that Ignatz finds it satisfying to hold him like that- but his head still faces the ground in subservience. 

_ As it should _ , he reminds himself. The thought of being put in his place excites him so, and Lorenz compels himself weakly to avoid rutting against the ache growing within him. Flickering his eyes open, he reminds himself instead of what he’s been brought here to attend to. 

At the sight of it, Ignatz pulls his head closer towards the seat of his clothing. The weight of the swell on Lorenz’s lips furthers his arousal, and the scent of the garment is heady- floral, and freshly cleaned. He’s not sure if a scent can be authoritative- but it is a self-confirming fact that it can be arousing. 

“Do you wish to display your fealty to the church, Lorenz?” Ignatz coos, less of a question and more an instruction. It’s almost parodical, how it highlights the demonstrative aspect of their continued recognition of the church’s institutions. Still, it does nothing to stop Lorenz stirring further- there’s a sweetness in obedience, and he nods without hesitation. The confirmation provokes a low growl in Ignatz’s throat, willful and laced with desire, as he lifts the draping fabric of the vestments high and exposes the portion of the garment which covers his legs. Lorenz takes the movement as an invitation to move closer, to place his lips on the growing arousal between Ignatz’s legs. One of Ignatz’s hands slips from where he’s holding up the edges, allowing one side to fall over Lorenz’s frame, concealing part of his vision- not that Lorenz minds- and he undoes the seat of the underlying trousers to expose his underclothes. With the lower garment pooling around his knees, Lorenz’s cock stirs at his proximity to Ignatz’s pleasure and he lets out a wistful sigh as he regards it. Still, with his underclothes remaining on, Lorenz hesitates on pressing any further, or endeavouring to remove the covering himself. 

That is, until Ignatz speaks up again. 

“You’ll remove my underclothes, won’t you?” 

Another command, framed as a question. Lorenz does as he’s told, hooking his thin fingers underneath the soft fabric of the piece cupping his growing erection, yanking it down until it pools around Ignatz’s thighs alongside the other garment. His cock exposed to the chill of the air, Ignatz shudders, and he drops the other side of the draped vestment around Lorenz’s face. Shrouding him in darkness, aside from Ignatz’s erection, dripping precome as Lorenz’s hot breath touches the shaft. 

“You understand how to treat a man of the church, yes?” 

Lorenz is silent, lips pursed, for the moment before it hits Ignatz that he needs to provide him permission to respond to his utterances. 

“Speak.” It’s a rigid, lonely word, but it’s all Lorenz needs to hear.

“Of course. By the grace of house Gloucester, I shall satisfy your desires.” He presses a brief kiss to the head, and wraps his hand around the shaft of Ignatz’s cock. “To service your holy cock without hesitation.” 

Ignatz thrusts forward, hips snapping, and Lorenz’s lips part to receive the head of his cock. It’s hardly the whole shaft- though Lorenz considers himself to be well-trained in receiving Ignatz’s considerable length- but it prompts an immediate whine from Ignatz’s throat as his cock hits the tight warmth of Lorenz’s mouth, precome dripping down onto his tongue. A tongue which Lorenz goes to lavish Ignatz’s cock with, eagerly smearing it over with his own come as he does. 

“Good,” Ignatz purrs, returning his hands to where Lorenz’s head brushes against the fabric of the vestments, “though you should know that I expect you to take the entirety of my arousal. To do so is only polite.” 

And of course, Lorenz wants to be  _ polite _ . So  _ polite _ that he bobs his head forward eagerly and coats Ignatz’s cock further with his saliva, drawing another moan of ecstasy from Ignatz’s throat as he does so. With the tip nearly reaching the back of his throat, he works consciously against his gag reflex, filling his mind with wandering thoughts- of Ignatz overcome with fiery pleasure, and of the primal satisfaction of alleviating the desire of someone who relies on him. Who desires him so, and would not seek anyone else for such satisfaction. Thoughts which make Lorenz become even more aroused himself, erection already straining against the front of his own trousers and a single bead of precome pressed through the fabric of his underclothes and to the seat of his garment. 

Even with the pinprick-point of wetness so evident, Lorenz does nothing to alleviate his own excitement, choosing instead to take Ignatz’s length deeper down into his throat. Though the garment conceals much of what light would otherwise reveal, the brush of Ignatz’s tender curls against Lorenz’s forehead indicates to him that he must be quite close to the root of his pleasure. As does the increasing intensity and frequency of his moans, muffled only slightly by Lorenz’s concealment underneath his choice of costuming for the night. 

Still, it’s only when Ignatz begins to call his name, consumed as he is in his passion, that Lorenz makes use of his hands, bringing them to brush initially feather-light against Ignatz’s balls. 

_ Perhaps he is in charge _ , Lorenz thinks,  _ but I play this game alongside him _ . 

When he emits a satisfied groan, Lorenz intensifies the friction of his touch, beginning to stroke as his head bobs up and down on Ignatz’s erection, swallowing each trace of precome which graces his tongue. It’s clear when Ignatz is close, though, in the way that he begins to buck forward insistently, brushing the head of his cock against the sensitive back of Lorenz’s throat and filling it with a fullness that he cannot help but relish and delight in. 

“I- Lorenz, you’re- doing so very well, I can’t- help it, I’m-” The already-strangled words are cut off by a chest-shaking cry of exertion as Ignatz’s cock thrusts forward against the tightness of Lorenz’s throat for the final time, spilling come as it does. Lorenz swallows eagerly- even outside of this little game, he loathes the thought of staining the fine floors with emission- and Ignatz lingers for a second before pulling out, cock dripping with Lorenz’s spit and the last vestiges of his own come. He then takes to lifting the draping portion of the vestment away from Lorenz’s face, uncloaking him and restoring his vision. 

It doesn’t take Lorenz long to take advantage of it- almost as soon as he gasps for air, he gazes upwards to assess the level of satisfaction on Ignatz’s face, a smile spreading over his own at the sight of a rose-red blush thoroughly imprinted on Ignatz’s cheeks and a trace few tears from overstimulation gathering in the corners of his eyes. 

“I hope that I have been able to demonstrate the continued fealty of my lineage to you.” Lorenz croaks, throat still aching somewhat. Still, his eyes drip with a knowing lust as Ignatz’s still tremble from orgasm. Aware of the straining hardness in his own trousers, he chooses to wait for a response. 

“...Your service to the Church of Seiros,” Ignatz mutters, “has been nothing but excellent. I believe that there is no doubt as to your commitment.” 

-

To some, Ignatz’s preparation for knighthood might seem wasted. For such a respectable path to be exchanged for a life of artistry, even under the care and patronage of an affluent noble, is the sort of thing many would scoff at. Despite the danger inherent to the profession, the respect carried uplifts the individual and constitutes perhaps the best shot for the common folk to join the ranks of the nobility. 

It’s something Ignatz is conscious of. And though the life of a knight is never something he’s truly desired, old habits die hard- and they come alive in the bedroom, where Ignatz straddles Lorenz’s thighs, positioned over his already-erect cock, with his usual night-garments replaced with the underclothes traditionally worn by Knights of the alliance. 

And with Lorenz’s hand skirting down the clothed expanse of his chest, full of wistful admiration. 

“You saved me,” Lorenz exclaims, with an almost parodical breathiness. It’s the sort of line Ignatz expects to find in some rather floral romance novel- which, really, is the point. Discussing the origin of their relationship- a hurried tryst the night before a particularly risky battle during the campaign of the Golden Deer, followed by weeks of settling into new and strange feelings for one another- Lorenz had lamented, if only jokingly, the way his own romance had progressed so differently from the stories he had read of rose petals and tender courtship amongst nobles. 

To play like this, Ignatz supposes, isn’t the greatest apology for the circumstances at hands. But it’s certainly sufficient, judging by the way Lorenz looks up at him with sincere admiration of some fictional strength, displayed against an equally fictional horror awaiting his innocent self. 

“I would do anything,” Ignatz replies, “for someone as beautiful as yourself. I could hardly leave you to struggle.” 

A coy grin spreads across Lorenz’s face, and Ignatz contemplates how he might wipe it off. Such contemplation, however, is interrupted by Lorenz sliding his hand up Ignatz’s leg and slipping his thumb in the crease where his chest meets the upper portion of his runner’s thighs. Pressing into it, still maintaining a facade of innocuous teasing. 

“How strong,” Lorenz gasps, “and how noble of you. I don’t suppose there’s a fashion in which I could repay you, hm?” 

At the last breathy syllable, Lorenz traces his teeth over his lips, as if savouring some delicious meal. Ignatz, feigning something between confusion and indecision, does not respond to the obvious provocation- still, he can feel his blood pool downwards, and he pleads with his own body to avoid urgency. 

“A knight needs no payment aside from duty.” It’s a line that Ignatz steals consciously from a friend of his from long ago, who wished much more dearly than him to become a knight. He supposes that it must be convincing, as he can feel Lorenz’s cock stir underneath him. It’s enough to make Ignatz wish to reach out- still, he resists, committing himself to the playful narrative they’ve constructed. 

“In that case,” Lorenz posits, “I have something else I’d request your assistance in.” He skirts his hand over the growing bulge in the seat of his sleepwear (Lorenz had earlier insisted against wearing his own costume for the night, and Ignatz had not sought to refuse him), beginning to fondle it as he does. “A knight must seek to establish their strength, hm?” 

It’s not often that Ignatz has been called strong- such terms are more often reserved for Raphael, or Leonie. Such a compliment makes him stir again, the shape of his own erection now pressing down against Lorenz’s. Any other time, he’d grind down with hesitation- now, though, he’s a knight, courteous and eager to hear out any desire. 

“Of course.” Ignatz murmurs, voice low. “How do you envision me doing so?” 

In a false gesture of contemplation, Lorenz slips his hand underneath his chin, resting it as if he must decide something. But from the glint in his eyes, Ignatz supposes that Lorenz has had an idea squarely in mind for as long as they’ve been in their bedroom together. 

“Take me, brave knight.” Lorenz’s other hand runs up Ignatz’s other leg, but comes to rest instead at where his cock strains against the front of his trousers. Gently, he touches it, riling up Ignatz further. “I am yours, and for your pleasure.”

Lorenz’s words send another jolt through Ignatz’s body, and without prompting he brings Lorenz’s sleepclothes down from his waist to his ankles, exposing his erection. 

“No underwear.” Ignatz mumbles. Lorenz looks up at him, invitingly wanton. “You must have been waiting for someone to demonstrate the strength of a knight, hm?” 

A gasp escapes Lorenz’s throat, and as his eyes flutter close in time with it, Ignatz draws down his own coverings and exposes his own erection. Sliding forwards and taking it in hand, he comes to intertwine his limbs with Lorenz’s, gripping him authoritatively all the while. When his head comes to rest on Lorenz’s chest, Ignatz raises himself once more, angling himself towards the already-evident slickness of Lorenz’s hole. He’d insisted on using lubricant earlier, lest the application in the middle of the scene ruin the tension and immersion, and Ignatz felt a rush of thankfulness for such a decision being made- hovering as he was, so close to entering Lorenz, Ignatz can barely imagine breaking to prepare. Not when he aches so deeply for his lover already, and not when Lorenz desires him so evidently either. His cock presses against Lorenz’s hole for a moment before Lorenz nods, affirmative, and Ignatz sinks in. Initially facing resistance from the tight ring of muscle, the beginning of the penetration nonetheless works a gasp from Lorenz’s lungs, wanton and warm. It’s the sort of sound that urges Ignatz to thrust deeper into Lorenz’s sensitivity, so wonderful that Ignatz can already feel the first few drops of precome escaping his cock as he keeps going, building in intensity each time. 

“I’m your knight, Lorenz.” Ignatz supposes that it might be damaging to the immersion somewhat to mention Lorenz’s name, what with the framing of an anonymous encounter between two individuals driven more by lust than love. He can’t help it, though- on top of Lorenz is the best place to admire his beauty, with each unique feature driving a fresh lance of desire through Ignatz’s chest. “Strong, and so good at protecting you.”

Such a sentiment clearly arouses Lorenz, provoking his cock to twitch and another whine to escape his throat separate from Ignatz’s decisive thrusts. He hardens even further, however, when Ignatz lays his hands on his hips and grips down to give himself leverage to thrust further, and deeper, inside of Lorenz, providing vivid stimulation. When Ignatz removes his hands from their solid grip, and goes instead to grip his cock and stroke gently up and down, soft marks shimmer on the pale expanse of Lorenz’s hips. Ignatz isn’t quite sure if Lorenz has seen them- his eyes flicker open and shut so often that it’s not something he can tell- but if he hasn’t- Ignatz licks his lips at the prospect of having marks to show off to Lorenz the next morning, a further claim placed on his lover. 

At the moment, though, the claim he’s staking is still in progress. Ignatz’s cock pressing deep into Lorenz’s hole, with Ignatz angling himself to hit Lorenz’s prostate as best as he can while at the same time handling his cock gently, trying to avoid any unnecessary friction caused by the absence of lube on Lorenz’s erection. It’s not necessary for long, though, because with a single determined thrust against Lorenz’s sensitivity at the same time as Ignatz presses his finger against the head of his cock, Lorenz spends himself on his chest and his thighs, spilling some on Ignatz’s frame too. His voice becomes high pitched as he does, stuck somewhere between relief and further arousal, and at the sound of it Ignatz finds himself becoming so painfully close to the edge that he can’t imagine holding on for much longer. 

“Lorenz- I’m-” 

It’s all that he can splutter out before he spends himself too, finishing inside Lorenz’s hole before slipping out on instinct, all of a sudden too worn to do much else. Without bothering to clean up the come coating both of their bodies, Ignatz rolls over to the side, and sucks in a deep breath. 

Lorenz’s eyes are still glazed-over, distant from the overwhelming physical noise of orgasm. Still, his arm slips over to rest underneath Ignatz’s neck, and he rolls onto his side to face him. 

“M-my knight,” he stammers, “I believe you have demonstrated to me well the strength and integrity of a protector like yourself.”

Ignatz grins, an impish smile on his face as he presses a kiss to Lorenz’s cheek. 

“My pleasure. And as a knight, I-I’d be remiss to not offer you my comfort during the long night ahead of us.”

Lorenz wraps Ignatz closer, and in the embrace of his arms, he decides that cleanup can wait just a little longer. 

-

It is, in Ignatz’s recently-gained experience, a slight difficulty to find a tailor able to approach the prospect of a maid dress for a more masculine figure. Not for a dearth of coin- the endeavour of course funded by the House Gloucester- or indeed for a lack of willingness, for there are few places in the Alliance which would turn down any sufficient offer. Instead, it is because almost every tailor in the Alliance has worked under the house for at least some time, and there has previously been no business regarding outfits for maids. The request, Lorenz had explained, stood out amongst all previous requisitions. 

In the end, Ignatz had ended up sending mail to a dear old friend located in the former territory of the Empire. One particularly skilled at embroidery, who requested anonymity out of the nature of her character and not solely because of the erotic intentions Ignatz had set out at the beginning of his first letter. Such a process had delayed the production slightly, of course, but Lorenz had insisted on discretion despite his enthusiasm. 

Seeing Lorenz like this, though, clad in the fruits of their labour- Ignatz forgives each trial and burden endured throughout the entire affair with an almost heart-racing immediacy. The piece fits perfectly, accommodating and accentuating every part of Lorenz’s body- the body that Ignatz loves to admire and trace every line of on any given day, let alone with Lorenz dressed like this, a sliver of his toned yet sensitive thighs poking out from between the garter belts holding up the white lace socks covering the rest of his slender legs. His shoulders suddenly much sharper underneath the puff of night-black upper-arm length sleeves, hair more beautiful partially covered with a white headdress and waist so tempting to caress when demarcated with a silken white band- Ignatz can feel blood sinking to his cock already, and has to mentally resist the urge to reach over and take Lorenz the way he is. Sitting, patient, on the bed. 

Waiting for him. 

“You’re staring.” Lorenz chatters, playfully. “Do I really catch your attention so deeply, Master Victor?”

Master Victor- it sounds remarkably strange, like the name a child might make up while playing at authority. In some sense, Ignatz can’t help but find that appropriate. Day-to-day, he has no interest in engaging in carnal acts with service staff, even if such would be appropriate within the context of his and Lorenz’s relationship. But the way Lorenz looks up at him, full of desire, full of the knowledge that Ignatz created this for him, is something entirely different. Which is so beautiful that Ignatz can’t resist the way it makes his artist’s heart thrum like very little else. 

As if he were truly a part of the nobility, Ignatz makes sure to establish his posture before he speaks. Straightening his back, he faces Lorenz with a decisiveness that he can only maintain if he does not look away from his face. 

“Very much so.” he replies, earnest. “I am happy to see that the new costume fits you well.” 

Ignatz isn’t surprised that his old friends’ work is excellent- an archer’s fingers are a sewers fingers, and he’s seen evidence of her skills in the patched up items she’d frequently drop at his door in the middle of the night. It’s how deliciously it suits Lorenz that excites him so deeply. 

Lorenz grins at him, the sort of sleek expression he gives when there’s something he has for Ignatz. Or, when he wants something from him. 

“I’d be happy,” he prompts, “for you to inspect the fit in greater depth. After all, you requisitioned it.”

Ignatz doesn’t consider resisting for a second- he walks to Lorenz’s side as if compelled by some spirit of nature. Despite the height gap between them, when Lorenz sits down on their bed, Ignatz stands taller over him- enough for him to slip a finger underneath Lorenz’s chin and prop it up, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck in time with the gentle gesture. 

“The collar,” Ignatz comments, as if he’s seriously examining the fit ( _ which is perfect, because Lorenz is wearing it and looks beautiful in it, and as far as Ignatz is concerned that’s the point of clothes _ ) “is of wonderful quality. The lace is clearly well-made.”

_ I must thank her for that _ , Ignatz notes silently.  _ The materials are rather wonderful for something that’s very likely to get stained _ . 

Lorenz responds not with words, but with several heated breaths that morph into deep gasps somewhere in his throat. Ignatz takes that as an invitation to bring his other hand down the front of the dress, reaching the place where he can caress Lorenz’s collarbones. The touch, though concealed by the black-and-white front of the dress, excites Lorenz further, makes him shift tensely in place in the hope of mitigating the onset of his arousal. Still, when Ignatz brings his deft fingertips to the pebbled surface of Lorenz’s nipple and presses, as if he was plucking a bow, Lorenz keens loudly, a jittering hand coming to rest on Ignatz’s lower arm as he does. 

Breathily, on the cusp of whining, he speaks. “I believe it is not strictly the dress you have come to admire, Master Victor.” At his words, Ignatz isn’t sure whether he should attempt reprimand- the fantasy is one of submission, of course, and Lorenz is most certainly speaking out of time. But they speak to a part of his heart which can no longer resist its basest desires, and to a part of his body almost overwhelmed by arousal. 

In another life, where Ignatz were not so close to release already that he could hardly form a coherent word against him, Ignatz considers that he might have refused. Rebuked, even. But Lorenz smells of lavender and fresh sheets- he must have bathed, and changed the bedding- and Ignatz can feel the first drop of precome stain the front of his underclothes. So he draws back, only temporarily, and reaffirms his authority. 

“Remove your clothing, Gloucester.” It’s a strange name to use in the context of submission, but it feels ecstatic on his tongue. Especially when Lorenz complies, barely able to hide the grin budding on his face as he slips each part of his lean body from his costuming. As Lorenz reaches back to undo the buttons which hold the garment closed at the back, Ignatz slides over to him on the bed and begins to kiss dark marks onto the underside of his arm, determined and thorough, bruising the pale sinew of Lorenz’s flesh. He supposes that the shudders doing so sends through Lorenz’s body might make the undressing more labourious than it would otherwise be- but it is a show, and it is for him, and Ignatz intends to enjoy it. 

“It is a beautiful dress,” Ignatz comments, as offhand as anything can be in the moment, “but I believe that the value is hidden inside.” He goes back to placing kisses along Lorenz’s arm, this time moving upwards, as he gasps and whines in appreciation, one hand moving downwards to divest himself of his own lower coverings while one hand moves to where Lorenz’s flushed erection tents the fabric. 

Gently, slowly, Ignatz begins to rub the impression of the arousal against the fabric covering it, prompting further moans of pleasure from Lorenz as he shakily releases the last button from its hold. When the front of the garment falls away from Lorenz’s torso, Ignatz grins, and his hands move away from Lorenz’s erection. As he does, Lorenz whines, but says nothing, awaiting word from Ignatz. 

“I’m going to undo the rest of this, and strip you.” It’s a command, but it leaves space for Lorenz to interject- when he doesn’t, and when Ignatz catches the glimmer of excitement flickering in his lust-clouded eyes, he proceeds with bringing his hands to the large bow at the back. He unties it, gentle, loosening the waist and allowing the skirt portion to be slipped off much more easily. Ignatz doesn’t opt for that immediately- instead, he removes his hands once more, and uses them instead to pry apart Lorenz’s thighs from where they rest on the bed. Now spread, Ignatz gently lifts the front of the skirt away from Lorenz’s legs, bringing into full view the space between his thighs and his erection. He’s hard, cock red and rigid, enough to tent even the most durable of underclothes- but once more, Lorenz isn’t wearing any. 

“Beautiful.” Ignatz groans, trailing off with a hiss of pleasure. “You’re prepared for me.”

Lorenz nods, coy. At the sight of it, Ignatz gets another idea. 

  
“Roll over.”

Obediently, Lorenz obeys, slipping onto his stomach without a word of complaint. Ignatz, behind Lorenz, takes stock of his thighs with his hands- their cavalry-toned physique and the fading love bites which still cover them from several nights ago. In the moment, Ignatz feels tempted to leave more for Lorenz to find in the morning- but there’s another idea which catches his attention more immediately. 

A jar of lubricant rests on the nightstand next to their bed- Ignatz can see it out of the corner of his eye. It’s a fanciful design, purchased by Lorenz, who had insisted on owning the most refined of even the most private products. Ignatz snatches it up, glass surface cold on his palm as he spools the clear, viscous fluid onto his hand and spreads it between both of his palms eagerly and thoroughly. His hands do not remain the only surface coated for long, however, as Ignatz wastes no time in applying the same fluid liberally to the inside of Lorenz’s thighs. They’re almost dripping with it, like icing on an indulgent cake, when Ignatz takes his pause, positioning himself behind Lorenz and divesting himself quickly of the last piece of clothing concealing his own lust. As he pulls his smallclothes down, Ignatz can feel the stain left by the first drop of precome brush up against his cock, and suspects that he will not last particularly long.

“Are you ready for me to take you, Gloucester?” 

His question is answered not only with a nod, but with Lorenz bringing his thighs closer and tighter together. Ignatz comes closer, almost to the point of straddling him, and takes a second to admire the way such luxurious fabric frames Lorenz’s body, so perfectly ready for Ignatz to use and pleasure himself with. He takes his cock in hand, already hard, and presses it to the place where Ignatz’s thighs come together. To spread them once more, this time with his aching pleasure, is of no difficulty, and when Lorenz finally parts, Ignatz begins to thrust forward with vigor, his pleasure quickly increasing at the friction. With Ignatz thrusting so close to Lorenz’s own cock, still erect, Lorenz struggles himself to contain his cries of ecstasy- particularly when Ignatz grips the seat of his back and drags him down onto his cock, increasing the friction and practically dragging their erections alongside each other. 

It’s when Lorenz is on the edge that Ignatz slows, indulging in the sounds of bliss emerging from Lorenz’s mouth for as long as he can. At the newly drawn-out sensation of Ignatz slowly fucking into his thighs, Lorenz shuts his eyes, feeling a drop of precome emerge from the head of his cock. A desperate ache overtakes him- to touch himself, to relieve some of the pleasure accumulating inside the pit of his stomach- but to do so through the front of the maid’s skirt is almost impossible. Instead, he lets Ignatz take full control once more, listening intently to his growls of satisfaction. 

“Good, Lorenz.” Ignatz supposes that to call Lorenz by his first name is another breaking of character; but it is one that he cannot resist. The mounting pleasure is bordering on unbearable- Lorenz is so tight around his cock, and so excellent at showing himself off, that there’s little Ignatz can manage aside from keeping his head in one piece and resisting the urge to come all over the fabric of the beautiful dress he’s wearing. Particularly when Lorenz whines at the languid intensity; pleading words escaping his mouth. 

“P-please, Master Victor,” Lorenz exclaims, voice broken but character maintained, “I-I cannot take it for much longer.”

A pleased hiss escapes Ignatz’s throat. He wants to be good for Lorenz, and to know that he is- that despite the lack of direct penetration, Lorenz is himself close to the verge- causes something inside him to be pulled to the point of breaking, held only by a single other point. 

“You must come on me, I-I need it, you- teasing me like this, it’s-”

Whatever else was anchoring Ignatz to himself releases its grip, and he finishes with a final thrust into the tight togetherness of Lorenz’s thighs. Wishing to be generous, he takes one hand away from Lorenz’s hips as he does, and slips it underneath the skirt of the maid dress. It doesn’t take him long before he finds and grips Lorenz’s cock, hand poised at the bottom of the shaft. It takes nothing but a few thrusts, propelled somewhat by Ignatz’s own come covering Lorenz’s lower stomach and the crook of his thighs, for Lorenz to come, a shuddering, trembling yelp driven from his body. 

“Very good, Gloucester.” It might be inconsistent, but it’s the first thing that comes to Ignatz’s mind as he relieves Lorenz, both physically and from his “service”. He takes the cue to collapse onto the plush surface of the bed they share, still panting, with Ignatz riding out the shockwaves of his orgasm behind him. 

“This dress,” Lorenz laments, “has been stained. I suppose I’ll have to take it off quite quick for it to be washed effectively.” 

“No cuddling, then?” 

“Not in this.” he grumbles, stripping his hindquarters out of the garment. It’s tossed to the other side of the bed, in perhaps the most un-neat fashion Ignatz has ever seen Lorenz undress. “But I expect to be held, Ignatz.” 

“Mm. I’d be happy to.” Ignatz picks the dress up from the bed, and holds it up. True to Lorenz’s statement, the front of the skirt is stained with come- Ignatz can’t help but find it rather painterly, the abstract expression of their pleasure on a piece of fabric. 

He tucks the idea of a black painting with white patterns away somewhere in his mind, and places the garment in the washing basket outside, ready for collection and washing. Lorenz lies, now nude, on the bed, and Ignatz doesn’t waste a second in joining him. 

“Did you enjoy it?” Ignatz purrs, coming to hold Lorenz’s chest, his sharp shoulders and slim waist still as beautiful as ever. 

“Yes.” He’s flushed, but Ignatz can tell his approval is sincere.

“Then I’ll have to contact my friend for some more custom pieces.”

“...Mm. But do not tell me their name, or I shall never be able to look them in the eyes again.”

For a second, Ignatz wonders if Lorenz has truly not managed to guess Bernadetta’s involvement in the affair. It’s a thought, though, that’s pushed from his mind as Lorenz tucks Ignatz’s head under his chin, and he finds his home in the crook of Lorenz’s neck once more. 

**Author's Note:**

> ty for reading! i really appreciate it. if you like my work, my twitter is @meowcosm, i post all my fic on there + other stuff to do with fire emblem and fanfiction. 
> 
> kudos and comments are appreciated. i hope you have a wonderful day!


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